


Unlovable?

by 0ya_script4



Series: Voltron: Legendary Writing Prompts [14]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, College Hunk, Hunk (Voltron)-centric, Hurt, Lance is protective and worried, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD, Past Abuse, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide mention, Trigger warnings:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 16:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16178732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0ya_script4/pseuds/0ya_script4
Summary: Hunk gets emotional and writes it down. He hopes that writing it down will be able to get it out of his mind. A few months later his English professor assigns a dramatic writing about "Emotions". Hunk thought it was a great idea to turn in the paper he wrote when he was really depressed. Boy, did it backfire.





	Unlovable?

He knew it was a bad idea to turn in the essay. He knew the second he passed it in he’d be right here, in the counselor's office with a print out of his homework and a disapproving look coming from the counselor.

“Hunk, we need to talk,”

“No, you want to talk, I don’t” Hunk tried to curl into himself as much as he could on the rocking chair in the middle of the room. “Can I go?”

“Hunk, we have to talk about the essay that you turned in. It is very--”

“Personal and Professor Newman said that it would never see anyone else’s eyes but his for the grade. I don’t see why you’re so concerned over a dramatic writing…”

The counselor sighed and looked down to her copy of the essay, “ _I’ve lost count the number of times and places I’ve written. I lose sight of who I’ve come to be, chasing after the ghost I once was._ ”

“Stop,” Hunk sighed, “I’m fine. I wrote that a while ago, found it, and sent it in.”

“Do Shiro and Lance know?”

“NO!” Hunk cleared his throat, “No, and they never will.”

“Hunk, a polyamorous relationship requires--”

“Don’t tell me what my relationship needs.” Hunk stood, “I’m fine. We’re done.” Hunk walked out of the room, not necessarily because he was mad at the counselor but because he suddenly got really anxious that Professor Newman would email Hunk’s known boyfriends in an attempt to reach out and understand what’s going on. He wrote _really_ personal stuff in there, stuff he hasn’t even disclosed to Takashi or even Lance. He didn’t want them to learn any of that until he was ready, and he sure as hell still isn’t ready!

Hunk walked, practically jogged, to his car. Once in the driver's seat, he pulled out his phone to call Shiro, and before he could even dial his boyfriend's number Lance’s beautiful face and his favorite Beyonce song blasted. Hunk put on his fake customer service face that he uses at his part-time job and answered.

“Hey, Babe, what’s up?”

“Where are you?” Lance sounded just as enthusiastic, maybe they hadn’t been contacted. Even if they hadn’t he left the notebook right on his desk like an idiot and they could still find it.

“I’m just leaving from a meeting, heading home.” Hunk said, not really lying but not exactly telling the truth.

“Okay, um, well… drive safely. I love you.”

“I love you too, and I love Takashi who is listening into this conversation. I’ll be home in fifteenish.” They both said ‘bye’ and hung up. Hunk knew they knew. Lance was hardly awkward over the phone, that was Takashi’s job. BUT it doesn’t necessarily mean that they want to talk about the essay! It could be something entirely different, something that they want to discuss sexually even though Takashi’s sex drive plummeted recently and he [Hunk] is uncomfortable with it (which isn’t really a bad thing, but what else is there to talk about?). Hunk put the phone back into his pocket, turned on the car, and slowly--like cruise control exact speed, slowly--headed home. He had to prepare for the conversation. He had to plan on what he was going to say, how he was going to diffuse their questions. He needed them to know that he was dumb and that he didn’t do anything to hurt anyone but himself. They knew about his scars, they knew about his past self-harm, they knew almost everything… and almost was just enough for them to know right now.

 

_Shrouded in pain, practically using it as a blanket to brace the hollow hope of a gust of prickling loneliness._

 

He can’t let them know.

Pulling into the driveway he saw the haphazard way Lance parked his Hatchback. Hunk stayed in the car looking like he was gathering things for a minute too long. Lance opened the door to their small home and waited at the threshold.

Their home stood one floor. A beautiful off blue-grey color encasing the house, a small porch big enough for a couch for them to chill on in the mornings and wait until Hunk has to go to classes or Takashi has to go to work. Inside is very nice as well, it reminds Hunk of an old daycare he used to work part-time at. The first room he walks into is the living room (on the right-hand side) and on the other side of him was a wall for him to hang his coat and a small rack to put his shoes. Walking a little further in brought him to the kitchen, where Lance would always be dancing and making his famous garlic knots. He’d walk further into the house. Left brought him to Takashi’s study and Lance’s office. Lance working from home helped the house stay clean and whenever the landlords let them do renovations he’d always be home to make sure they don’t get robbed. Straight brought him to the half bath of the house, where Lance was banished to do his skin routine because it takes too long. Turning right brought Hunk towards their shared bedroom and the full master bathroom.

But right now, he had to get out of the car and walk to his boyfriend.

Hunk grabbed his backpack as he got out of the car and walked towards Lance.

“Hey!” He put on his best fake smile

“Hey,” Lance reciprocated. He practically jumped into Hunk’s arms, holding him tightly as he did when something was bothering him or when Hunk had been away for a couple days.

“Everything okay?” Hunk asked, holding Lance and reveling in the contact no matter how new it was.

“Um, no, not really.” Lance separated and grabbed Hunk’s hand pulling him into the house. “ ‘Kashi, Hunk’s home.” With Lance’s announcement, a rumble erupted from the kitchen. That wasn’t good. Nothing good is talked about at the table with this atmosphere.

“ ‘m home,” Hunk nervously called shucking off his backpack and jacket in one go and leaving his shoes beside the little rack Lance got for them to go on.

“Welcome home.” Takashi sounded tired and when Hunk turned into the kitchen, following Lance like a lost puppy, he could see the stress and depression written all over his face and his favorite depression sweater almost three times Takashi’s size encasing him. “Takashi, what’s going on?” Hunk didn’t want the answer to be what he knew the answer was.

“Can you?” Takashi looked to Lance who sat in a chair way to close to Takashi to be comfortable. Leaving the other’s way father away in comparison.

“Yeah.” Lance wrapped his hand in Takashi’s and gestured for Hunk to sit. “Takashi got a call from your English professor today--”

“Damn it.” Hunk said under his breath between Lance’s words. Not noticeable enough for Lance to stop, but enough that Takashi made eye contact with him. His eyes noticeably red from crying as if this tore into him so deeply.  

“--and he was worried about your most recent essay.” Lance paused, giving Hunk time to cut in and explain, which he didn’t use. Hunk gestured for Lance to continue. This was happening. This was really what he came home to do? To talk about his dumb past which wasn’t all that rough because people go through worse things daily and what sentient being gave him the right to complain about little things that he did? “We read it Hunk,” Lance admitted, looking to the folded, crumpled, basically mauled piece of paper close to Takashi. “And we’re--”

“You were never supposed to find out.” Hunk let out, his chest began to feel heavy like he’d been sporting his younger sisters bra to stretch it out again because she bought the wrong size and why go and exchange it? He had fidget with the cuffs of his jacket while he looked at the scrap of paper trying to execute it with a gaze.

“So, you were just never going to say anything?” Lance questioned

“Eventually--maybe--but not like this. It was a writing assignment for class, he said no one else was going to see it…”

“Hunk it was dated,” Takashi said, his voice scratchy and weathered as if he’d taken a bat with nails down his throat recently.

“When it gets this depressing, and this…” Lance didn’t finish his words, he just sighed. “Do you want to explain?”

“No, I really don’t.” Hunk closed his eyes and began to scratch at his old self-harm wounds not hard enough to reopen them, but hard enough for him to remember the emotional pain.

“Why not?” Lance asked

“I’m not ready.”

“With that attitude, you’ll never be.”

“I will be someday, just not today!’ Hunk raised his voice a little, he didn’t mean to, but nonetheless, it happened.

Takashi picked up the scrap of paper and unwrinkled it, his eyes already ready to cry again. “ _I’m 21. I’ve never dated. I’ve found myself in a hole of retribution because I was too afraid I’m_ **_unlovable_ ** _. I was too terrified everyone would see me the way I do: obnoxious, unpleasant, undesirable, repulsive, detestable. So, I ran away from everything. I tried to escape--_ ”

“Enough,” Hunk tried to hold back his breath. His head spinning. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“You’re going to hear it. Hear it how we read it, and then you’re going to explain to us why you doubt yourself so much and why you hate yourself.” Takashi wept. He turned his eyes back to the paper not waiting for a response:

“ _I tried to escape what life I lead to mold and manifest a fantasy where I was desired by more than horny men on the internet. But, if that’s only who will love me, then why not?_

_“I’m unlovable. I’m fat, loud, weird, ugly, obnoxious, I speak my mind, wear too tight of clothes for my body shape, I’m too sassy, I refuse to talk to new people before they talk to me because people scare me, I hate how I look and I’m afraid. I’m so afraid. No one can ever love me. No one.”_

“Please don’t”

“ _The worst thing about this is that I’m ready. I’m so ready to finally date. I’m ready to get my heart broken, I’m ready to cuddle, cry, and love whoever is amazing enough that they can deal with all of me._

_“I want to feel love._

_“But I never will. I will only ever feel a fleeting realization that I’m not able to ever trust another man again. Even with the hookups in the past, I stifled my tears, I held myself together, I masked the cries for help in moans as I tried to please the men behind me. I closed my eyes hoping that when I opened them I’d be in the future and my partner would be smiling back at me with some dumb goofy grin and a cute comment about me spacing out. But that never happened. I only felt worse. I got worse with touch, got worse with fantasies, got worse with diving into porn, got worse with reading smutty fiction wishing that was me. Wishing that was my life._

_“_ **_I’m broken and unlovable_ ** _. I’m scared that the one person who could love me killed themselves--like I’ve wanted to do a million times--and now I’m alone. So then… what purpose do I serve?_

_“I hope, for my sake and my future partner's sake, that we find each other soon._

_“I’m not sure how much longer I can resist the call of the blade to go up my arm and through my throat. I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend that I am happy and that a kitchen knife doesn’t tempt me to just end it all here and now. I’m not sure how much longer I can avoid the thoughts of just driving off the road and crashing the car into the nearest thing off the interstate. I’m not sure how much longer I can last wanting to be loved but understanding that I’m not meant to be loved._

_“Either way it doesn’t matter because love, for me, will never happen._ ”

Hunk just looked at the table. He remembers the fit of rage and depression he was in writing it not even six months ago. He remembers tucking it away and thinking it was great to get it out of his system and when he found it a month ago he thought it would fit the assignment seamlessly. And it did. Online he received a 4 (out of 4)! But he forgot his school had faced the big, and public, suicide four months ago. He forgot how on alert they were for things like this.

“Well?” Lance edged on.

Hunk fought with himself, he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to tell them the entirety of what that meant to him, and having Takashi read it in a huff of anxiety really cut deep into him. He decided they at least deserved to not that he was still depressed, even after being with them for years. “I get really depressed and emotional.” he shrugged his shoulders “So, I write down my feelings in hope that they go away.”

“But you’ve never _seemed_ depressed.” Lance said, quietly, “That’s why we’re so shocked. Two months ago we went to Disney on Ice and we all had a blast, you and Takashi were betting on which skater would fall and which team would win and we were having fun!”

“I’ve been depressed my whole life, it doesn’t just vanish. Some days it's easier to handle than others. You both know about the hell my family went through. Three of my closest relatives dying within four months of each other, not even a whole year later my grandfather died, and recently my uncle died, and everything in between. We were all questioning things.”

“Yeah, but what about everything else?” Takashi asked, sniffing and wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. “Suicide and not being able to love another man after what exactly?”

Hunk closed his eyes, a tear falling down his cheek. “No,” Hunk stood, placing his hands on the table to support himself, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Hunk, it’s not good to hold things in,” Lance sat straight, ready to move and go to Hunk if needed.

“No,”

“We’ve all shared our stories. Takashi and the war, me and Rolo, now it’s--”

“No, Lance!” Hunk raised his voice, standing up straight, his eyes overflowing, “I don’t want to talk about it because I’m done thinking about it. I’m not letting it shape who I am, so ignoring it is the best outlet!”

Takashi slammed his fist against the table, if he weren’t sitting he’d have split the wooden table in half. “Sit.” He demanded. Hunk challenged him with a look and crossed his arms.

“No, we’re done talking about this. I’m--”

“When will you tell us?” Lance asked

“Never. I never want you to know.”

“What’s worse than having a few lame hookups, we’ve all been there?”

“I’m not falling for the bait. I’m not talking about this, that’s it.” Hunk huffed, his eyes still overflowing, his stomach jumping with every sob that left him. “I don’t ever want you to know. I’m never going to be ready for you to pity me like everyone else pities me. So, we’re not talking about this. I’m going to bed and I’m going to wake up tomorrow and act like we never had this conversation.” Hunk let out a sigh. He was being so mean. He knew this was a new light to see him in and he wasn’t necessarily comfortable with how this was and how his boyfriends would see him after this, but they needed to stop looking. They needed to stop asking. This wasn’t something he wanted them to know, he’d prayed for _him_ to forget, let alone his boyfriends learning and feeling bad and never letting it go, and allowing him to use it as an excuse, and allowing him to actually think about it.

Hunk collapsed onto the ground, covering his face. Takashi and Lance jumped into action and ran to his side, wary of holding him, but just touching his shoulders to let him know they were there.

“Hunk, we’re here for you,” Lance said, moving his hand to rub Hunk’s back in small motions.

“I… I don’t want to talk about it.”

Takashi let out a crying hiccup and placed both hands on Hunk’s arm to stop him from scratching it again. “Remember when I came back from duty and refused to talk about it?” Hunk nodded, “And remember how mad you were that I refused to talk about it because I swore that I was okay. I swore so hard that I was fine, that even after losing an arm I wasn’t changed and everything was okay?” Takashi waited for a verbal response.

“Yes,” Hunk looked to the ground, his eyes blurry from the tears.

“Do you remember how mad you got? How much you poked and prodded and questioned me because you knew I needed to talk about it. Talk to you, and then professionally? Remember?”

“Yeah…” Hunk sighed, knowing exactly where this was going.

“Please, this is us poking a prodding. We love you. We’d never look down on you because of something that happened in your past. You’ve never looked down on us when you come to you about things.”

“We just want to help, we’re not trying to be the bad guys,” Lance added

Hunk took a long time looking at the boards under his legs. His boyfriends were still talking, some to him and some to each other in order to get confirmation they said something right, but all in all everything ghosted over Hunk. He thought long and hard how he should tell them. He never wanted to tell them and here he was trying to be delicate about how he said it because with anyone else he was blunt.

“Well,” Hunk said, his voice breaking from his sobbing, his boyfriends immediately stopped talking, “you guys know how every year we go visit my Uncle’s grave?”

“Yeah, of course. He was like a father to you especially when yours was deported when you were young due to some mixed up paperwork.” Lance spat out in a rush

“Right.” Hunk looked at Lance than to Takashi, “You guys know how I always blame myself for his death, how I always wonder how he actually died, and my dumb conspiracy theories about him being alive?”

“Yes, we also talk about how distant you are and confused you look while we're there.”

Hunk took in a breath and steadied his heart, sniffling in and grabbing for purchase on either of his boyfriends to get some grounding. “When I was ten… on the day my grandfather died…” Hunk shivered, his heart racing. His face twitching, his everything shaking. His mouth, however, kept moving. “He raped me.”

There was silence in the room, a gasp from one of the two, and no movement. The slow caressing of Takashi’s thumb across his scars, the careful and lovely back rubbing Lance was dedicated to seized. Exactly what Hunk knew would happen did. He felt it. He felt their pity. He felt them pulling back. He felt ugly. He felt like a lump of lard smushed into the ground and he was about to jump up and run away. He knew that this was all going to happen and yet his mouth didn’t listen to all the dumb red flags screaming at him because he was wearing rose-colored glasses, and with those damn things on red flags just look like flags, and how could he have known his mouth had a mind of its own? He couldn’t stop it. And because of this he just lost his boyfriends. He just verbalized an eternal excuse that they’ll use whenever he shows the slightest bit of a mood change. What has he done?

“Oh, my god, Hunk,” Lance whispered under his breath. Hunk was waiting for the ridicule, his muscles tensing waiting for one of them to laugh. What if Takashi says ‘that’s it?’ and makes fun of him. He just dug his own grave!

Lance, without prompt, pulled Hunk into a hug. Wrapped him in his arms tears falling down his face. Takashi joined.

“Why…” Hunk looked at the two of them, “Why are you guys crying?”

“What did you expect? Us to laugh?” Takashi held on tight, his arms shaking.

“Yes, actually. Everyone else has when I’ve opened up to them.” Hunk shivered his body abnormally warm and cold at the same time.

“What do you mean?” Lance moved to face Hunk, sitting right in front of him. He held Hunk’s face in his hands and wiped the tears away with his thumbs.

“Every therapist I went to because mom wanted me to talk to someone about it, they all made me feel wrong, or left me on a cliffhanger, or just didn’t know enough about it to talk about it. They all ran away, that’s why--”

“When I said we should go to couples counseling you lost your shit.” Takashi interrupted

“Well, that and why I just refuse to talk to anyone about it.”

“Hunk, love of my life,” Lance kissed his nose and practically smashed their foreheads together, “I’m sorry you’ve had a bad experience with therapists, but you can always talk to us. We’re not therapists, and even if we were, we are your boyfriends. We care about you.”

“I know, I just… I was afraid that you’d think less of me.”

“Babe,” Takashi joined himself beside Lance, looking right at Hunk, “You’ve been through a lot--”

“You’ve been through more! Takashi, you lost your arm, you watched your friends die!”

Takashi smiled, “I’ve been through a lot too, and so hasn’t Lance. But just because, comparatively, ‘I win’--which isn’t really a win--doesn’t mean that what you went through was any less traumatizing. Everyone deals with everything in a different way.” Takashi placed his hand on Lance's shoulder for support, “To be brutally honest, if your uncle wasn’t dead I’d go kill him right now. I’m so angry, but not at you, well a little for not telling us but it’s more of love-anger than actual anger.”

“I agree with Takashi, about validation and killing but I’m more of an emotional killer. Anyway!” Lance laughed, “Hunk, I’m glad you told us, and I’m sorry we had to corner you to tell us, but I’m glad we did. What happened to you was unfair, but what happened made you into the amazing man you are today. Stuff happens, and we can’t help that, but we can help how we react to that stuff and that’s how you were molded. You, our beautiful boyfriend. You, our perfect baker. You, the love of our lives.”

“I’m glad I told you too, but I really don’t want to talk about this anymore right now. Do you think we all could dog pile in the bed and take a nap?” Hunk looked to the floor, he was really uncertain about telling them, but there was a little twinge in the back of his heart that made him content.

“Of course!” Takashi cheered

“I’m going to go get Mr. Princess from the bedroom and put him in the dryer for a little. I know you love cuddling him when he’s warm.” Lance cheered.

Lance sprinted up and did exactly what he said he was going to do. Takashi and Hunk slowly got up off the floor and walked hand in hand to the shared bedroom. Hunk crawled into bed first, he didn’t usually like being in the middle recently but today he felt like he was going to need it. So, he moved his body pillow to his left where Lance would latch onto him and crawl over the pillow anyway, and he grabbed his pillow. He settled himself right in the middle. Takashi cozied up to his right side, sheepishly draping an arm over Hunk’s chest. Only about ten minutes went by before Lance came in, jumped on the bed and gave Mr. Princess to Hunk. A warm Reindeer-moose-thing, two people Hunk really loves, and an encompassing feeling of utter adoration. He might just get the best sleep he’s ever gotten.

“I love you,” Takashi mumbled already halfway to dreamland.

“I love you just a little bit more,” Lance laughed as he stretched over the body pillow and all up in Hunk’s personal space. But right now, right here, Hunk couldn’t be happier. He couldn’t feel more loved.

**Author's Note:**

> I really vibe with Hunk, like in the other books I've written for him, and I know it hurts to put him through this... but it's nice to get this out. I hope you all liked this book!


End file.
